All that glitters
by UnluckyAmulet
Summary: Columbia was nobody- a wandering soul lost on the highway of life. But a chance meeting turned everything she ever knew upside down, and there was no way she was ever going back. Dying seems like a small price to pay when you get to become extraordinary.
1. Before

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor will I ever own, Rocky Horror. That belongs to Richard O' Brien.

Sort of a character-exploration of Columbia. She's kind of a strange character (I know MOST characters in Rocky Horror are, but she's probably the strangest HUMAN.) and I got thinking about where she might have come from, why she wanted to leave, and why does she stay at the castle. Fic is rated T for all the reasons you'd EXPECT a Rocky Horror fic to be rated T. This is a three-part fic, by the way.

Enjoy!

* * *

Columbia was never a person who was easily satisfied with things.

At least, she hadn't been _then._

A lot of the time, it's kind of difficult to remember the time that existed before she met Him.

But Columbia didn't just appear out of thin air, after all. She had to have come from _somewhere_.

The problem was, though, that it was never anywhere that people knew or even cared much about. She didn't live in the middle of nowhere, exactly, but to her, it might as well have been. She was the sort of person who craved excitement, adventure, and those were the things that people like her just were never going to have. It wasn't fair or particularly encouraging, but it was a fact, and people accepted it.

Except for Columbia, that is.

Sure, she had dreams and ambitions, who doesn't, but she knew that she just didn't have enough of _it_. Columbia was a firm believer in the phenomenon of _it. It _was the quality that only certain people possessed. And it wasn't beauty or talent or brains or anything like that. After all, those things exist in every person, even if it's only the smallest amount. Nobody said that life was fair, so it made sense that people got different amounts of that sort of thing.

No, _it _was the rare thing that some people have that just allows them to take whatever they want, has everything, simply by being themselves. She could name a ton of rich and famous people who didn't seem to have a spark of talent or originality, but they could still wrap people around their little fingers without much effort at all. You could call it luck, or charisma, but Columbia always figured that _it_ was simply a combination of these things, some kind of special power that only some could have. And everyone else?

Well, they were just helplessly pulled in the undercurrent. If people who possessed _it_ were comets, the people without were their tails.

Columbia knew pretty much that she was one of those people who awes, envies, reveres _it_, but it's not a thing that she will ever herself own. But still, she didn't want to be a nameless, faceless nobody, somebody who stumbled blindly through things, constantly tripping on the trials and obstacles of life, until eventually they just stop trying and settle into the kind of bland, mild harmony until they finally stop breathing.

No. What Columbia wanted was to latch onto those people who did, and could, take the world for everything it had, fuck the consequences. Feelings are contagious, after all, and for Columbia, she existed for the crazy rush of emotions that seemed to constantly plague her being.

Her parents (although she could hardly remember them now) were seemingly constantly exasperated with their daughter and her strange obsessions. They were the kind of bland, dull, ordinary people who know they have a limited lot in life, but are content to take it.

Columbia hated that. Hated their complacency, although she sort of understood it. But more than that, she hated their expectations that in time, she too would eventually succumb to the kind of bland boredom that had become their lives.

Even though she was damn well aware of her lack of talent or drive, Columbia knew there had to be more then what was in front of her.

So one day, she just left.

No explanations, no arguments, no farewells. She just shoved a few things into a bag, put on her favorite outfit, complete with make-up and left her house key on the table. Then she walked out of the door, knowing that she would never go back.

She didn't hate her family. She just wasn't like them, couldn't be like them.

She had no concrete plan, wasn't travelling in any specific direction. All she knew was that she wanted to get out of that house, get out of that one-horse town. Get out of her going-nowhere existence.

Somewhere, she knew she was being stubborn and stupid. That she could end up dead or drugged or one of the many other horrible possible things that could happened to a girl like her, wandering the world by herself. But she knew that whatever came her way, she was going to take it and run with it. Because, to Columbia, she knew that if _she_ couldn't be extraordinary, then she'd settle for being _with_ somebody who was.

Then, she saw Him.

Columbia had been mooching along the dusty road, her stomach lambasting her for not thinking to bring food. Her feet hurt; her shoulders ached from carrying her bag for however many miles. The worst part, though, was her head, and how it kept telling her to _go back, go back. There's nothing out here for you. Nothing._When she looked up at the approaching gas-station, she could see a dirty pick-up truck vibrating outside the store. The smell of the truck's exhaust and the petrol made her feel dizzy and a little light-headed, but she approached it anyway, since a store meant food.

Oddly, she saw nobody except the cashier when she stepped inside, but she was so distracted by the brightly-colored packages, the fluorescent lighting and the smell of the cashier's coffee that she quickly disregarded the thought. Columbia wasted no time in buying as many sweets, snacks and processed foods as she could carry. She left the store, a lollipop in her mouth, when she glanced in the direction of the truck.

Leaning against it was...well, she wasn't entirely sure _how_ to go about describing the person leaning against the side of the truck. But he was staring at her with hooded, piercing eyes that made her automatically slow down her walk. She could see a tattoo peering out from the sleeve of his coat, which was so long it nearly reached his ankles, but she could see very pointy black boots peeking out from beneath them. The man smirked as Columbia stared at him with a stunned expression and winked roguishly.

That's when Columbia realized- this man, whoever he was, had _it._

And if this _wasn't _fate, then she didn't care what it was. All she knew was that this person, this man, was the furthest thing from ordinary one could get.

Like she was magnetically pulled from her spot just outside the gas station, she stumbled towards the alluring figure, barely noticing as some of the snacks she was carrying fell from the pile in her arms. The man did not seem at all surprised that she was approaching him, only slightly amused. His smirk took on a somewhat lascivious air.

"Hello," he drawled, eyes starting at Columbia's feet and slowly making a voyage up her body. Even though she was still clutching an assortment of snacks, she felt like he was X-raying her. It was incredible how one simple thing could make her feel so exposed and naked.

It was exhilarating.

"Who are you?" the man asked her now, pushing himself off the side of the truck. Columbia vaguely noticed a blonde figure at the steering wheel, but her attention was only on him for less than a second before her eyes snapped back to the man in front of her.

"Columbia," she said. It rolled off her tongue.

"It's a _pleasure_, I'm sure." the man crooned, and she bit back a giggle, though her cheeks turned slightly hot. "Where are you going, then, Columbia?"

"Nowhere." she said, grinning so hard her cheeks ached a little.

One eyebrow arched.

"Really?" he asked, as though her reply fascinated him. He indicated the truck with an elegant jerk of his head. "Well, we don't know where we're going either. So, why not come with us?"

It was so simple that she didn't even hesitate.

"Okay," she replied, like it made no difference to her, but her eyes shone and she couldn't keep the ridiculous grin off her face as she promptly tossed her snacks into the back part of the truck and climbed in, skinny leg swinging over the side. The man followed suit, his movements languid and relaxed.

"Go," he ordered the driver imperiously, with a careless flick of the wrist. No sooner had the word left his mouth when the truck roared into life, pulling out of the gas station and speeding out onto the open road.

Columbia watched the gas station shrink until it was out of sight, then she sat down and turned. The man was lounging as casually as somebody can lounge in the back end of a pickup-truck, head tilting back as the remaining beams of evening sunlight shone on his unruly black hair. Columbia pulled the lollipop out of her mouth, relishing the small _smack_ as she did so.

"Hey, what was your name?" she asked him.

He opened his eyes and looked her way.

"Frank'N'Furter," he said, a smile full of a delightful wickedness. "But you can call me Frank."

* * *

If you've got time, drop me a review. :)


	2. During

Hi readers!

So, I meant to update this story a while back, but essays and apparent lack of interest kind of put a stopper on that, but I've been in a serious writing depression right now, so hopefully if I publish this I can finally get off my ass and finish off more things. I was also considering doing another chapter dealing with the Eddie/Columbia/Frank triangle, but maybe that would work better as a stand-alone? I'm not sure yet, I'll see what happens with this chapter first. (Special thanks to .)

Enjoy!

* * *

Columbia could not remember the rest of the journey in very great detail. The sun slowly retreated into the horizon, the orange rays becoming overpowered by the soft blue of nightfall as though somebody was sucking the color out of the air. The smell of Frank's cigarette smoke and the pure, crisp air of the night invaded her senses, making her feel absurdly giddy.

Eventually, a castle loomed into view, and it was then that Columbia realised that she just be a long way away from the middle of nowhere, because there were definitely no castles where she lived.

"Welcome home," Frank had told her with a smirk he wore like a second skin, before flouncing his way inside.

The hunchbacked man got out of the trunk, not even locking it as he shuffled towards the house. Columbia followed Frank in, loudly sucking on a lollipop, her last shred of evidence she'd been at the gas station at all. The soothingly smooth surface helped her relax.

Inside, the castle looked like a hoarder's wet dream. A stuffed leopard with a cobra wrapped around it like a feather boa stood incongruously next to an antiquated grandfather clock, which to Columbia's surprise, actually worked. Cobwebs littered the place, and yet there was apparently working electricity. She wasn't sure if Frank was eccentric, obsessively enamored with multiple cultures or if he was just a plain, bona-fide whack job.

Whatever he was (and Columbia, despite barely knowing him at all), she loved it. There was no chance of falling into a comatose monotony in a place as insane as _this._

"Well?" a voice rang out from behind her.

The blonde man (Riff-Raff, was that his real name?) stared at her. His face looked almost skeletal in the lighting of the hall.

"Well _what?" _she asked._  
_  
"He wants you to follow him." Riff Raff told her, as though he was talking to a child. "Go, before he loses patience."

Columbia smirked, took an insouciant lick of her lollipop, and approached the elevator, not particularly concerned about the cage-like gate that went over it. She craned her head up as she was pulled upwards.

_Come up to the lab.  
And see what's on the slab.  
_

* * *

The days afterwards went by a glittery, hedonistic blur. Actually, it was hard for Columbia to even accurately gauge how much time passed. For a while, she just spent it in a kind of dazzled stupor, almost like just being around Frank and his consorts was making her perpetually drunk.

That kind of outlandish theory would have seemed insane anywhere else, but she was discovering that anything and everything could happen in this castle, and honestly, it made perfect sense.

"How does he _do_it?" Columbia asked Magenta one evening.

Magenta smirked at the question and took a drag from her cigarette, using one of those old-fashioned holders that nobody had used since the 30's, but somehow, she made it work. It was almost impossible for Magenta to look bad. Columbia was surprised how quickly she and Magenta had bonded- when she first glimpsed the red-haired vamp, Columbia's first instinct was to be intimidated, because Magenta was gorgeous, and when not engaging in deliciously rebellious activities, she often seemed kind of detached, remote, like a lioness.

But for whatever reason, Magenta seemed to like Columbia somewhat. Columbia highly suspected it was because the older woman found her amusing, but it didn't occur to her to be offended by this. If Columbia could be entertaining to somebody as glamorous as Magenta, then that only confirmed that getting into that pickup truck was the best damn decision she'd made. When Magenta kissed her one day, with a kind of indifferent curiosity that left Columbia feeling a mixture of used and exhilarated, she didn't resist. The notion didn't even enter her mind.

Of course, Frank's approval was her drug of choice.

"That's _fascinating_." he would drawl, stretching the word out from here to the Grand Canyon, whenever Columbia answered one of his many questions about, well, anything, really. "You people never cease to amaze."

When they first had sex (and it both managed to shock her and not shocked her at all- why else did he let her go with him that evening?), it was like somebody had filled a needle full of pure ectasy and slammed it into her heart. The sounds she made she was pretty sure weren't strictly human. The nights she spent with Frank were like giving chocolate to somebody who has never even sampled sugar. Delicious, dangerous and endlessly addictive.

"Tell me, Columbia." he said to her one night, his fingers lazily tracing some random pattern into her bare thigh. "How would you like to stay here, forever?"

"Forever's awfully long, ain't it?" Columbia asked in a teasing drawl, something she had suddenly cultivated since arriving at the castle.

Frank gave her a lipstick grin, idly playing with the string of pearls he wore around his neck, like some kind of Queen. She supposed the description wouldn't be entirely inaccurate.

"I suppose it is. But don't think I don't know when somebody is avoiding an answer, darling."

Columbia laughed.

"Oh, honey." she told him, biting enthusiastically on his surprisingly-toned shoulder. "Where else would I wanna be?"

Frank laughed too.

"Good." 

* * *

The next morning, Frank was gone.

Columbia opened her eyes, her irises shrinking in the unfamiliar glare of the sun. Her covers were torn in various places and smudged with makeup. She giggled, shaking off the faint sense of disappointment. He'd be back. Of that much she was certain.

Sitting opposite her on a chair, was a present. Columbia eyed it hopefully. She rarely received presents, and she had no doubt that whatever it was, this was definitely going to be something special.

Like a kitten, she eagerly dug into the shiny wrapping paper, watching as it fluttered around her like glass butterflies. She could tell it was going to be an outfit of some kind because the package was soft and squishy.

Columbia looked down at the clothes, her eyes growing wider as she drank in the sequinned boob-tube, the sparkling gold jacket...all of it was ridiculous, extravagant and not something any sane person would wear.  
Her eyes fell on a note, written with a looping scrawl.

_For Columbia. Hope this...satisfies. Xx_

Columbia sat there for a moment, wondering if she was being watched on one of the many camera that littered the house.

Her. smile turned into a Cheshire-cat grin. She hugged the jacket to her chest. She didn't care that it felt scratchy on her bare arms.

"It's perfect."


End file.
